


Germination

by merryfortune



Series: Dungeons & Dryads [2]
Category: Yu-Gi-Oh! VRAINS
Genre: Anal Fingering, Eggpreg, Interspecies Sex, M/M, Male Impregnantion, Male Lactation, discussion of oviposition
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-11-21
Updated: 2018-11-21
Packaged: 2019-08-26 23:32:48
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 9,180
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/16691035
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/merryfortune/pseuds/merryfortune
Summary: Prince Spectre is aghast to learn that Duke Ryoken has an oviposition kink. So, he asks to indulge his own, out of species kink as tit-for-tat.





	Germination

   It had been a good many days and nights – months and years, by the human count – since the fateful arrangement which had intertwined Prince Spectre of Sunavalon and Lord Revolver of Hanoi. And it had also been a good many days and nights and months and years since all that which had hounded along on the heels of such an arrangement. And now, there was peace.

   The “war” involving the homunculi known as the “Ignis” had been laid to rest and though there had been violence in order to bury such a hatchet, there had been no drastic bloodshed. Though, as Lord Revolver feared, he had earned ire in the lands of human which would slit his throat if he attempted to settle, even anonymously. But, fortunately, he did have Sunavalon to retreat to, given his new marital right to it.

   Thus, he retired his alias “Lord Revolver” to become Second Prince of Sunavalon, Duke Ryoken and took his three most valued and trusted knights with him. Though, their status remained about the same but did alter their aliases to be more at home with the nomenclature that Sunavalon denizens use in order to honour the welcome they received. A welcome which was hesitantly bestowed upon by Queen Dryanome and only bestowed upon them because her son was so infatuated with their Lord Revolver, a human not unlike a son to them.

   Because of this, the ancient forests of Sunavalon became the haven of not only one human, but a total of four at the night whimsical decree of the princelings. Though, their admittance unto the Forest came with many restrictions but the remaining three Knights of Hanoi were happy to relent. Compared to what they would have had to live with – presuming they could live at all – under human-only decree was quite mild.

   And so, things began to wrap up quite nicely.

   Prince Spectre and Duke Ryoken were finally able to have a proper ceremony to signify their union. They had had a quick ceremony before any of this had happened and after their first tryst. It was only proper, but it had been rushed and done out of haste, so they had a second, more ceremonious function to symbolise the coming together of themselves and the species they were of.

   As an event, it had been rather charming. They had taken due time and care to construct a wedding and the result had caused many tears and hissy-fits. Both good and bad. It combined the best of them and part of the planning had shown off the worst of them, but it was so undeniably domestic and such a blessing after the hardships prior. So, the finishing ceremony had been the perfect balance between dryadic and human tradition, but more so the former as the latter had been inducted under the promise of assimilating to some degree.

   It had all been a learning curve for Duke Ryoken. He had been willing to take upon all sorts of traditions in the name of dryadic culture and he did learn much. But he had wanted to inject some of his own heritage into the event. Somehow, eventually, that was what happened. It had been give and take in equal measure: all sealed with a kiss. It was quite the fairy tale ending, although not one which had ended exactly to Duke Ryoken’s visions.

   Duke Ryoken had hoped that even though it was the off-season for his love, he still might be open to some debauchery but alas, that was not what happened. Not even in the name of taking advantage of, how Prince Spectre would describe it, how blasphemously amorous humans were. Regardless, Duke Ryoken accepted this outcome. After all, Prince Spectre’s lust would return soon; in just a few months.

   Though, the down time between the ceremony and the annual arrival of spring, and all that came with it, in the Forest was somewhat interesting.

   Underneath the supervision of Duke Ryoken’s Knights, Prince Spectre’s Gardnas became the architects and builders of more human-worthy places to remain. After all, unlike dryads, humans could not sleep in rain and other conditions lest it caused illness. So, they built a few, modest cottages for the use of the four humans and other facilities.

   In between the colonisation of select parts of the forest, it was a rather idyllic place to be. Or so Duke Ryoken discovered. Beginning with the environment, it itself was a blessed place to be. The rain was always soft, and the sunlight was always warming. It was blissful. As for the resents, sith most the population lacking in self-awareness and simply going about what they were created to do, there was little dispute to be had. However, there was of course unrest among the percentage who were not living in blithe ignorance of sentience.

   There was civil discourse regarding the Prince and his union with the human, Duke Ryoken. They also disagreed with how Prince Spectre had permitted yet more humans to tread upon what was supposed to their most sacred, inner sanctum. They were also worried that soon, their court’s blood would be polluted as well and soon, they would have to kiss the feet of mongrels who were neither human nor dryad but something in between.

   However, Prince Spectre was protective of his partner and prospective progeny in a way that was casually cruel. He simply had anyone who talked too loudly of their distaste turned to kindling. Or at least threatened to and to prove to those with such loose tongues that his threat was not in jest, he sacrificed a few servants without sentience.

   After that, there was no talk. At least no talk that reached Prince Spectre. Regardless, Duke Ryoken was impressed by how callous the prince of such a seemingly carefree domain could be.

   Still, there could be seeming want for nothing, in this place. They had bountiful food of various flavours and a place to stay without fear of harm or trespass. Their lives were essentially without strife and hence, why strife became something of a spectacle as it gave them something to do. And, in the midst of mating season for the dryads, strife could be used as a rather unique source of arousal.

   Though, now that Duke Ryoken had said such a thing this particular morning, he was beginning to think make-up sex might be out of the question.

   He and Prince Spectre had been spending their dull morning, cuddling au naturale, and began chatting about the things they liked to do. It had been in preparation of some sex but then Duke Ryoken confessed something which completely killed Prince Spectre’s mood; which, given his current state, was actually something impressive.

   “You’re into… WHAT?” Prince Spectre screamed.

   He propped himself up and completely tossed aside the sheet they had been sharing. Duke Ryoken blushed, but it was a rather chuffed expression. Even with Prince Spectre heatedly looking down on him in a decidedly not very good way.

   “You heard me.” Duke Ryoken taunted back.

   “That’s feral.” Prince Spectre snapped.

   Duke Ryoken shrugged. “It’s your fault.” Then he paused. “Well, you could probably shoulder some blame on Sir Faust; he’s into similar things and he was quite the father figure in my actual father’s absence. It’s possible I absorbed the proclivity for it and you simply solidified it.”

   “Disgusting. Humans are disgusting.” Prince Spectre grumbled.

   “I mean, your right. Its certainly uncommon and mostly looked down upon.” Duke Ryoken admitted.

   “I hate you. I mean, I still want to fuck you but now I feel like I need to punish you.” Prince Spectre said.

   “Punishment could be hot. Tie me up and spank me; whatever, it’s all good by me.” Duke Ryoken suggested.

   “Those are delightful things and I am interested in them, however,” Prince Spectre darkly chuckled, “fair is fair; an eye for an eye. Since you find sexual gratification from oviposition, an inherent part of dryad birthing, then I ought to get such gratification from something inherent to human birthing.”

   Duke Ryoken’s blood ran cold. His lover stared him down and Duke Ryoken was going through the possibilities. What was there about the human body that a dryad would find unusual and exotic?

   “I’m… hesitant to admit it myself but since all sorts of dirty things are coming to light, now might be appropriate for me to let you in on a little secret.” Prince Spectre said.

   “I would say I’m flattered but if you can’t share this side of yourself with me, your husband, then who else?” Duke Ryoken forced himself to reply.

   “As you know, I was reincarnated from an abandoned baby. I thirst… unconditional love and something, I have come to realise through exploits-”

   “Masturbation?” Duke Ryoken piped up.

   “No, not masturbation but similar pursuits, yes.” Prince Spectre huffed.

   “Gods, your sex life must have been so sad before you acquired me as your fuck toy; blue-balling yourself like that.” Duke Ryoken said.

   “Oh, shut up,” Prince Spectre snapped, “and let me finish.”

   Duke Ryoken snickered but he didn’t reply. Prince Spectre was unamused by him though and huffed.

   “For various reasons, I’ve come to associate milk with unconditional love and I want you to provide me with both those things.” Prince Spectre said.

   “…Fascinating, and for the sake of clarification, when you see milk… do you mean…?” Duke Ryoken fumbled with his words and he made a gesture towards his chest. “Because I have ill news for you if you mean…” He continued to gesture his chest.

   “Yes, I mean the milk produced from human breasts.” Prince Spectre said.

   “Like I said, I have ill news for you then.” Duke Ryoken replied. “I am male. I have no way to produce milk and even if I did, human women don’t just… lactate on command.”

   Prince Spectre was floored by such a reply. It sounded sassy, but he had no reason to believe that he was being snarked at. So, his mouth sort of fell open and his brows twinged before he could find his voice.

   “I want a second opinion.” Prince Spectre said. He then got up and put his hands on his hips. “We are going to involve your knights in this spat of ours. I’m sure they will back me up.”

   “They will all tell you the same thing.” Duke Ryoken huffed. “And sure, whatever. We’re all at that point where there’s no such thing as a bodily secret anyway, but please put some pants on.”

   Prince Spectre obliged, and he was quick to dress himself. Duke Ryoken was nowhere near as eager. But he did get into some clothes eventually although his garb was messily slung onto him whereas Prince Spectre, despite his swiftness, was able to look presentable.

   Together, with rather pissy expressions, they left their private quarters and then made their way to where the Knights kept their meagre barracks. Due to their little spat, neither of them made conversation as they traversed the well-trimmed path to the cottage. Thus, the walk felt longer than usual, hotter too. It seemed like an unseasonably warm spring day today.

   Duke Ryoken knocked on the door of the main cottage. He could smell pancakes inside and soon Sir Genome opened the door.

   “Ah, wonderful, the love birds have come to join us.” He said. “Well, you have good timing. We’ve just made breakfast.”

   Prince Spectre let himself in. He barged past Sir Genome. He sighed.

   “It’s human convention to at least reply to such a greeting.” he snarked.

   “Bless you both for coming out in public though, in this trying time.” Dame Baira added.

   Duke Ryoken sighed. “Our social visit is ill-timed. I apologise but your about to lose your appetites over this but thank you for the offer.”

   Duke Ryoken joined Prince Spectre inside. Together, they awkwardly hovered in the walk way between the door and the dining space.

   “Oh, that can’t be good.” Dame Baira commented.

   She had been reaching for the jug of maple syrup but had decided against it. Sir Genome then joined her at the table whilst Sir Faust brought over their stack of pancakes. They were slightly burned but still smelt delicious.

   “Don’t tell me,” Sir Faust said with a heavy heart, “it’s finally happened. Either kids, a sexually transmitted disease, or both.”

   “Unfortunately, it’s not that sort of conversation. That would be far less… awful.” Duke Ryoken said as he pulled up a chair; one that Prince Spectre sat in.

   Duke Ryoken then sat opposite Prince Spectre. From across the table, sparks flew. But not the sort of lovey-dovey, having sex with only their eyes sort of sparks that Duke Ryoken’s knights were slowly growing accustomed to in this time of year. An uncomfortable silence began to settle as neither wanted to explain the situation unprompted. Thus, Dame Baira offered herself as sacrifice.

   “Are you two going to enlighten us? Or are you going to dine with us?” she asked with a sigh.

   “Prince Spectre has a question.” Duke Ryoken said, smarmy.

   “Shut it you. You have no right to speak like you have any superiority over me.” Prince Spectre said, replying with a voice slathered in disgust.

   Duke Ryoken shot Sir Faust a look. “I’m blaming you for this.”

   Sir Faust hummed.

   “Your question… just get to it already. Or else our breakfast will go cold.” Sir Genome testily said.

   “Can human males lactate? Or are we certain that Ryoken is a Androecious male? Are we sure he’s not Protandrous?” Prince Spectre said.

   “Ah. I see. That’s why I’m being scapegoated.” Sir Faust muttered. “I presume this is a… kink thing?”

   “Yes.” Prince Spectre replied.

   Dame Baira dropped her knife and fork. “You’re right. I can’t say I have much appetite now.”

   “The honesty goes unappreciated.” Sir Genome shrugged.

   “Prince Spectre, humans don’t have such sub-categories when it comes to their reproductive systems, I’m afraid. Male, female, and intersex. That’s about it and we are very certain that our Duke Ryoken is strictly male. And therefore, cannot lactate for your… amusement.”

   Dame Baira sighed. “Not necessarily.”

   Prince Spectre perked up.

   “It is possible for Duke Ryoken to produce milk. It wouldn’t be much, and it probably wouldn’t taste good but anyone, regardless of their sex, has the ability to lactate. If the nipples are stimulated enough over weeks, possibly months, lactation is possible, but it wouldn’t be worth the effort.” Dame Baira replied.

   “Wh-What?” Duke Ryoken’s voice cracked. He did not like that reply very much.

   “I see, but that would be too late. A few weeks or months and it would fall out of my period of oestrus.” Prince Spectre said, far too seriously in tone of voice to suit the conversation’s mood.

   “There is another way. One that is far quicker and will produce a decent amount, if not it may cause an overflowing.” Sir Genome piped up.

   Everyone looked at him and he squirmed. He huffed and rolled his eyes.

   “My great aunt was quite the witch and scientist in her day. I studied under her tutelage for a bit and one thing I did aide her in was her midwifery. Occasionally, it’s very rare but it does happen, she would encounter a mother who was completely and utterly dry upon the delivery of her child. No milk in her breast at all so, my great aunt would have her drink a brew which in an hour or so, would help simulate the new mother and help her produce milk. My great aunt would swear by it. Anyone who drank that brew would make milk. Even males.” Sir Genome explained.

   “It’s hocus-pocus. As if.” Sir Faust grumbled, and he crossed his arms.

   “Just because your family does not have the gift for magic, doesn’t mean we all lack such aptitude.” Sir Genome interjected. “I mean, remember who you are in the company of.”

   “Sir Genome, do you recall how to make such brew?” Prince Spectre inquired.

   “Yes.” Sir Genome replied.

   “Excellent then I must commission such a thing immediately, how long will I have to wait?” Prince Spectre asked.

   Sir Genome hummed. “Three hours or so.”

   “Fantastic, now, as your prince, I must command that you begin the potion-making immediately.” Prince Spectre said.

   “Can’t I eat breakfast first?” Sir Genome asked.

   “And can’t I have a say in this?” Duke Ryoken asked.

   “You said that you are good with anything. This is included under anything.” Prince Spectre scathingly replied.

   “You know damn well that I meant bondage and the like when I made that promise.” Duke Ryoken spat.

   “Seriously? In front of my pancakes?” Dame Baira snapped.

   That seemed to have shamed the young royal couple into submission. After all, nothing was scarier than a hungry woman crossed. So, they both turned bashful and avoided eye contact.

   “Thank you for that, Baira.” Sir Genome murmured as he began cutting his pancakes up into smaller pieces.

   The meal recovered, thankfully, from the unsavoury topics of conversation Princes Ryoken and Spectre had brought to the table. They all ate quietly. Only ever piping up to ask for napkins or syrup and similar. Once the meal was finished, and all plates were cleared, Duke Ryoken offered to clean up after everyone. An offer that was not dismissed.

   Soon after, Prince Spectre leapt at the chance to have Sir Genome to brew the potion which would, hopefully, cause his lover to lactate. In the down time, Sir Faust and Dame Baira squabbled over how the former managed to impact Duke Ryoken like he had. Something that Duke Ryoken listened to as he scrubbed down the dishes outside in the wash tub out back and something that he regretted doing. But it was a more pleasant conversation that Prince Spectre eagerly aiding Sir Genome in his stewing of all sorts of strange ingredients. Ingredients that he would have to swallow and at the moment, the concoction did not sound even remotely digestible.

   Duke Ryoken returned inside and placed the dried plates and cutlery on the shelves. Sir Faust and Dame Baira thanked him and added the flourish of it not having been necessary for him, the prince and guest, to have done such things but Duke Ryoken knew better. That was just trite flattery. Besides, he wanted to be anywhere but too close to the rest of the scene in the kitchen.

   He snooped along, as quietly as he could, to observe. Prince Spectre wasn’t so much helping as he was observing. Something he was so engrossed in that he didn’t even realise that his husband had snuck up behind him to watch as well. Meanwhile, Sir Genome was very happily pulling apart the cabinets for all the eccentric things he required for his brew.

   Eventually, the pot he had been using was filled to the brim with some sort of milky liquid with all sorts of flowery and meaty bits and chunks. He sighed and declared in two or three hours, it would be alright to drink. After that, he resigned to the table and asked if anyone wanted to bide their time by playing cards. An offer which was met with a depressed sigh as its not like there was much else to do. As the deck got shuffled, they all reflected on what exciting lives the inner sanctum of dryad-human royalty lived.

   Still, it did waste time. That had been the goal after all. Though, it likely would have been more enjoyable if Dame Baira and Sir Faust’s bickering hadn’t devolved into a rather fierce, and only tangentially flirtatious, game of footsies under the table. Or if Sir Genome’s brew wasn’t stinking up the cottage. He swore up and down he would do something about the stench once it had properly been brewed but no one truly believed him.

   Said stench did lighten considerably once it got closer to noon and the brew had been on for more than two hours now. Satisfied with that, Sir Genome took it off the boil and doused the fire. The doors were opened, and Prince Spectre brought inside some fresh bouquets of flowers from outside in order to freshen up the cottage. It worked somewhat.

   Sir Genome bottled his brew then, whilst quirking his brows, wordlessly offered a sip to Duke Ryoken.

   “I have rights, you know.” he hissed to his husband who was expectantly awaiting him to down the brew.

   The brew had turned a chocolaty or earthy brown. It looked vaguely like cake mix before it was baked yet remained quite fluid. So, perhaps it was more like the sauce of a stew, but it was more appetising it visualise it was something sweet. Especially given that all sorts of cinnamon sticks and flowers and then some other less than appealing things had all gone into it and seemingly disintegrated.

   “I’m going to divorce you.” Duke Ryoken continued to taunt Prince Spectre as he held the neck of the bottle.

   “Do it. See if I care, but you won’t. You love me.” Prince Spectre snarked.

   “I love the fucking security you give me by not threatening me with a guillotine for my father and I’s crimes.” Duke Ryoken seethed.

   “You also love my body and being able to put your pen-” Prince Spectre said.

   “Okay, stopping you there. We don’t need all the lurid details.” Sir Genome interrupted. “Anyways, I have a compromise. My great aunt was never able to test her brew on species outside of humans, and some farm animals, so I think it would… useful to research if you, Prince Spectre, drank some too and later report back to me on the effects. How’s that for a compromise, Duke Ryoken, since you are still unwilling?”

   “I’ll do it if that causes your position to budge.” Prince Spectre said to Duke Ryoken.

   “…Fine.” Duke Ryoken replied, his voice mired in a snarl.

   “Excellent.” Sir Genome said. He then shrugged. “Well, just share the bottle between yourselves. After that, the effects should kick in about an hour or so. Enjoy that time for, uh, foreplay, I guess.”

   “Oh, we will.” Prince Spectre replied, far too flirtatiously. He then glanced at Duke Ryoken. “Well?”

   Duke Ryoken’s fingers tightened around the neck of the bottle. He hated how the twin gazes of Prince Spectre and Sir Genome were getting under his skin. He huffed and popped the cap off of the bottle. He chugged half the bottle and tried to just force it down, not letting it touch his tongue. Something he failed out rather miserably and consequently choked on. He rubbed his mouth with the back of his other hand and then passed the bottle to Prince Spectre.

   Prince Spectre replied with a quirk of his brows to indicate that he was gracious and flirtatiously so. Sir Genome rolled his eyes. After that, Prince Spectre delicately drank was remained of the brew in the bottle. He wasn’t fond of the taste of it, but he could tolerate it.

   “Well, you two love birds better get a mosey on. Us elders have to cleanse ourselves after being far too intimately involved in such young ones’ sex lives.”

   “True that.” Dame Baira piped up from outside.

   Upon hearing that, the princelings felt a tad shamed but they stiffened through it so as to not show weakness. They both exchanged a glare then bade Duke Ryoken’s guardians farewell. After that, they made the trek back to their private quarters.

   The walk back was miserably long. Duke Ryoken found himself short of breath far more frequently than usual. Every step was painful. His bodily chemistry and other attributes had clearly been affected by the brew that he had drank. He did not feel drunk, but he did feel to be of a weakened state which left him stumbling and faint; having to take a break often. Something Prince Spectre grew impatient for. After all, they had made the walk hundreds – if not thousands of times – and yet this time, it was completely unlike all previous.

   When they finally got back to their quarters, Duke Ryoken collapsed at the ‘dining room’ chair. Something which earned yet another exasperated sigh from Prince Spectre as he fiddled around with the kettle. Duke Ryoken then slumped over the table and Prince Spectre later placed a boiled tea pot by his face.

   He drank some tea. Duke Ryoken sniffed the air.

   “What flavour is that?” he asked.

   “Ginseng.” Prince Spectre blithely replied.

   Duke Ryoken removed his head from the table and glared at Duke Ryoken. “Ginseng increases the libido.”

   “That it does, or allegedly so.” Prince Spectre said as he took a delicate sip.

   “I can’t believe your trying to ply me further for your fantasy.” Duke Ryoken snarled but he accepted the tea anyway.

   They sat, in silence, drinking tea. Still letting the effects of Sir Genome’s brew take a hold of them. Prince Spectre seemed to be utterly indifferent to the effects, if there were any at all. It made sense. His bodily anatomy did not feature lactation, after all due to being a creature which was more plant-based than mammalian. Duke Ryoken, however, was far more malleable to the changes the brew could induce.

   Soon, the tea pot was drained. Prince Spectre glanced at the bottom of it, a few drops left but not enough to drink.

   “How are you feeling?” he asked.

   “How am I feeling?” Duke Ryoken spat back to him. “I feel horny.”

   “Congratulations.”

   “Don’t interrupt me! And my nipples hurt. Like, a lot. And I’m horny.” Duke Ryoken replied.

   “Does that mean…?” Prince Spectre’s voice trailed off.

   “Ugh, just take me now, you bastard.” Duke Ryoken growled.

   “With pleasure.” Prince Spectre purred. “Now, will you let me pollinate you over the table?”

   Duke Ryoken did not err but there was a tinge of reluctance as he got up from his chair. He shoved it aside, nearly knocking it over, and then bent himself over the edge of the table. He lifted his ass as to entice Prince Spectre; a needless gesture but an appreciated one as Prince Spectre approached.

   Duke Ryoken undid his slacks from the front, fiddling with the buttons and his hands fumbled with the buttons. Prince Spectre did aide him, helping the hemline over his hips. Soon, Duke Ryoken’s trousers were around his ankles and his bare ass exposed. His penis still flaccid in front of him.

   With subdued exuberance, Prince Spectre undressed himself. He did not care for where his clothes landed. That was irrelevant. He could already feel the bulb of his genitals begin to perk up with realisation that soon, it would have to bloom and unfurl.

   Prince Spectre’s body was receptive. Excited. He very much wanted to fuck his lover into bliss but first, he did have to bloom so he decided to tease Duke Ryoken first. He traced the base of his spine; revealed as Duke Ryoken’s untidy blouse hitched up his back as he leaned over the table, obediently waiting to be sexed.

   Duke Ryoken nattered, took a sudden breath as he felt Prince Spectre feel him up. He shivered.

   “Quit stalling.” Duke Ryoken huffed.

   So, Prince Spectre plunged a finger into Duke Ryoken’s anus. Duke Ryoken took a sharp breath and Prince Spectre continued to finger him. He rotated his finger around and gave some thrusts with it. A dull ache rising in his wrist, but he did not mind. He was clinical regarding it, but it was still sexually stimulating regardless but mostly from an aural satisfaction. After all, humans were such dirty creatures for wanting such things in such places but Duke Ryoken’s mewling as a result was a delight.

   He wished dearly that he had a mirror or was somehow able to observe Duke Ryoken from the front. Simply seeing his ears redden was not enough and neither was hearing him so lewdly respond to the fingering. Prince Spectre wanted to be able to see every crinkle on Duke Ryoken’s face as he was penetrated anally.

   Though, there would be plenty such observation later but for now, Prince Spectre would simply content himself with how Duke Ryoken reacted to his sole finger but even that pleasure was beginning to fade. It would seem Duke Ryoken had grown used to it so, Prince Spectre slipped in another.

   That surprised Duke Ryoken. He yipped, and his hands gripped tightly onto the flat of the table. He lifted his ass against, going onto his tip-toes and Prince Spectre continued to penetrate him. Whilst all this happened, Prince Spectre’s genitalia came into bloom.

   The bulb shifted, and the soft inner was soon exposed from behind the “outer shell” of skin which was firmer there than elsewhere. Petals unfurled and already, beads of nectar congregated at the base, thickening and daring to make the journey along the petals’ edges so as to drip down and pool on the ground.

   His anthers soon uncurled from within and lolled outwards. The stigmas at the centre bristled and there was an expulsion of pollen. They brushed upon against the back of Duke Ryoken’s legs, even unto the base curvature of his posterior. Excess pollen streaking on his legs and he enjoyed the powdery sensations on his sensitive skin. He sighed; only to have such a breath scolded as Prince Spectre roughly fingered him.

   Duke Ryoken mumbled something. His fingers curled into themselves, against his palms into a strangely bratty fist.

   “Come again?” Prince Spectre asked of him. “I didn’t quite catch that.

   “Fuck me…” Duke Ryoken hissed.

   Prince Spectre shoved his fingers in further and Duke Ryoken writhed at such a rough touch.

   “We’re royalty, my love: do not be vulgar. And, don’t forget, enunciate clearly.” Prince Spectre chastised him.

   “Pollinate me.” Duke Ryoken begged. “Please, pollinate me.”

   “With pleasure.” Prince Spectre replied.

   Prince Spectre removed his fingers from Duke Ryoken’s anal canal. He flexed them briefly and tried not to think too hard about where they had just been. He then aligned his genitals with Duke Ryoken’s ass. He placed a hand either side of Duke Ryoken’s thighs, fingers not quite digging in, but they were certainly possessive.

   Prince Spectre hefted himself upwards and the anthers which protruded from deep within him scantily traced along Duke Ryoken’s skin. It was teasing but also difficult. There wasn’t as much precision with Prince Spectre’s anthers and stigmas as there was with his fingers, or if he had been adorned with a mammalian cock or similar.

   Duke Ryoken grinded back, trying to help. Something that Prince Spectre appreciated and found turned him on. After all, having Duke Ryoken reciprocate was rather enticing. Though, through both their efforts of varying successes, Prince Spectre soon did penetrate Duke Ryoken.

   The use of anthers and stigmas was gentle. Not intentionally so, it’s just how it had happened. Sex between dryads, of any gender or genitalia, was like sex between two human women or so Duke Ryoken had come to realise. It was more a form of tribadism or scissoring than anything like traditionally heterosexual, penis-in-vagina intercourse or similar. Though, given how the anthers would flimsy penetrate in order to exchange pollen, that might not be apt either.

   Regardless, Duke Ryoken found himself enjoying the stimulations that came with having his anal canal penetrated by the gentle anther. At first, many sessions and months ago, he had wished it to be more carnal or human. That was desiring something more cock-like and with unnecessary roughness, something Prince Spectre struggled to achieve with his genitalia. But Duke Ryoken had come to accept – and even adore – the way in which anthers served him sexually.

   The anthers were soft as they pushed through Duke Ryoken’s flesh. He shivered, and he felt them slide up and down within him. Prince Spectre grunted, becoming increasingly inspired to give Duke Ryoken the “hard and fast” which humans were particularly adept at and that dryads were particularly novice at, despite better aspirations.

   Pollen dislodged from the heads of the anthers. It clung to the walls of Duke Ryoken’s anal canal. It was an uncomfortable experience and yet, it brought strange pleasure nonetheless. Prince Spectre continued to try and force himself as far up into Duke Ryoken as possible, so that he could stimulate his prostate but, like usual, it was a herculean task in vain but Duke Ryoken enjoyed the attempt, regardless.

   He took a sharp breath and his cock had grown swollen beneath the table. The edge of cut into Duke Ryoken. He felt its hardness somewhere below his naval. He felt himself drip and leak with pre-cum.

   Prince Spectre pushed his hands upwards, beneath the fabric of Duke Ryoken’s shirt and against his taut skin. Though their days were mostly idle and slothful, ideal for hedonism, Duke Ryoken had not resigned to more slovenly ways. He kept himself sharp of mind and firm of body.

   Then, his hand slid downwards, and he groped under the table. He ghosted along his lover’s shaft and heard him take a breath accordingly. He chuckled to himself as he grasped Duke Ryoken’s cock. He gave it some attention; it was quite blasé compared to the fixation that Prince Spectre had regarding Duke Ryoken’s chest, but it was still quite lavishing. His fingers dug in slightly and he massaged its length before slowly receding upwards, having gauged that some fluid – pre-cum – had spurted from along the slit recently but Prince Spectre was uninterested in dirtying his hands. So, they travelled upwards again with each shiver and prickle of Duke Ryoken’s skin.

     Duke Ryoken took a sharp breath and readied himself. Feeling his lover’s hands ghost over his chest and pelvis had been tantalising and he knew that Prince Spectre was goading him, teasing him. Then, he felt Prince Spectre’s fingers circle his nipples and he shivered. Not only were they erect, but they felt enflamed. Duke Ryoken began to pant.

   “Stop… teasing me.”

   “With pleasure.” Prince Spectre replied.

   Then, almost ceremoniously, Prince Spectre pinched Duke Ryoken’s nipples. Duke Ryoken’s eyes widened and he tried to swallow a lewd noise but that only made it worse. His body tensed, only to relax once more as Prince Spectre massaged his breasts and continued to tease the nubs of his areolas.

   Duke Ryoken panted and soon, fluid dribbled from his nipples. He shivered, and Prince Spectre continued to stimulate him. He could feel the milk, watery and warm, run over his fingers now so he retracted them. He paused to admire the fluid and how it streaked along his spidery fingers.

    Prince Spectre licked at it.

   “How is it?” Duke Ryoken asked, his voice edged with discontent.

   “Hm, too small a sample for a proper taste.” he decided. That was not entirely untrue; there was a faint taste, but it was rather foul.

   Prince Spectre pulled back. From within Duke Ryoken, Prince Spectre’s anthers were removed. Duke Ryoken moaned, loudly and rather pleasurably, but didn’t cum. Duke Ryoken lifted himself slightly off of the table. He glanced backwards.

   “Let me guess,” he said, “you want to-”

   “Suckle from your nipples like a babe? Obviously.” Prince Spectre interrupted him.

   Duke Ryoken’s face went red. His erection faltered; this was, by no means, something which turned him on. Prince Spectre could be far too forward sometimes.

   “So where – how do you…?” Duke Ryoken fumbled.

   “Up here is fine.” Prince Spectre replied.

   “Alright then.” Duke Ryoken conceded and he hefted himself up onto the table.

   Prince Spectre placed a hand either side of Duke Ryoken’s thigh and gazed up at him. There was hunger in his eyes. No wonder he wanted to have sex on the table. That’s where they ate and right now, Duke Ryoken was the meal.

   Duke Ryoken leaned down and initiated a kiss. Prince Spectre kissed back eagerly. He stood on his tip-toes so that he could properly meet Duke Ryoken’s lips. The anthers of his genitalia perked up. They began to ghost over Duke Ryoken’s legs and around his crotch, reaching as far as they could and leaving trails and puffs of pollen in the wake of their movements as stirred by arousal.

   Prince Spectre was the one to break off the kiss. The hunger in his eyes had transformed to something ravenous. Duke Ryoken felt heat rush through his body, particularly through his neglected erection.

   “May I?” Prince Spectre asked.

   Duke Ryoken nodded and his reply got stuck in his throat. He then ripped off his shirt, hastily, and pressed his chest forward. His nipples were enflamed: scarlet and ripe, almost like a fruit. His breathing was dodgy, impatient.

   “Thank you for this meal then.” Prince Spectre said.

   Prince Spectre leaned upwards and latched his hands around Duke Ryoken’s neck. Duke Ryoken held Prince Spectre steady so that he may sustain such an awkward position. Perhaps it may have been wiser to have tried this lying down, but Prince Spectre was far too amorous, and ravenous, to change now.

   His mouth sealed around Duke Ryoken’s left nipple. It felt foreign in his mouth. He suckled awkwardly, with a rhythm that was clunky and off-kilter. Duke Ryoken held on tighter though and he felt his erection shoot up. He hardened considerably as Prince Spectre sucked him off.

   Something Prince Spectre noticed and did not hesitate to encourage. He planted one hand around the base of Duke Ryoken’s cock and massaged it. His thumb inching upwards whilst his lips, and tongue, fixated on his nipple. Duke Ryoken’s breath caught in his throat and he moaned. The stimulation was overwhelming, and he could begin to feel himself produce all sorts of fluids. His cock leaked precum and his nipples, both of them, leaked milk. It was a beautiful sort of misery, as he was all consumed by Prince Spectre’s, but it was at the sacrifice of some of his pride.

   Prince Spectre swallowed some of the milk. He nattered, pleased, and then licked over the nipple. His saliva remained in trace amounts around it as he switched to Duke Ryoken’s left nipple. He leaned across slightly and brought them closer. Duke Ryoken kept him steady through such changes.

   He then whined, pleasured, as Prince Spectre licked at the neglected nipple. He enjoyed the sweet taint upon his mouth. It was a dulcet flavour which sated hungers he never realised he had. Be it both of the stomach and of the heart. His body tingled as he swallowed that which Duke Ryoken produced from his breast. The anthers of his genitals curled upwards and nectar stained him considerably as it dripped languidly from within his sepals.

   It was utter bliss for Prince Spectre and it even drew the reluctant and hesitant Duke Ryoken in. He was slowly succumbing to sexual ecstasy as facilitated by this lactophilia play. He had been brought up to be a man: sexually aggressive and domineering, imbued with toxic masculinity. So, something like this had ought to have left him feeling emasculated but no. Instead, he was enthralled by assuming this more feminine – or how he perceived it as such – role in sex. But the dryads had their own conventions of gender and sexuality and he was still learning much of such customs, but he was enthralled nonetheless.

   He liked – no, he adored – having his husband nurse off him. It was kinky and intimate. It was not something he would want to do frequently, but it was an indulgence that Duke Ryoken had come to accept.

   “Do it,” he moaned, “suck me dry.”

   Prince Spectre let go of Ryoken’s cock and assailed his neglected breast. He huffed and licked and suckled harder. His tongue, throbbing, edged over the skin excitedly and Duke Ryoken panted. There was a renewed ardour in the way Duke Ryoken’s breast was lashed and he enjoyed it thoroughly, but it wasn’t enough.

   Prince Spectre realised that also. So, he bullyingly pressed back unto his lover. He hefted himself upward and forced Duke Ryoken to swing out of the way. In a flurry of movement, all of which was smoother than it should have been, Duke Ryoken ended up with his back unnaturally flat against the table. His breath hitched in his throat as he looked up into Prince Spectre’s eyes.

   Duke Ryoken parted his legs. The base of his back felt strange against the table as he offered his body up. Prince Spectre straddled him, kissed Duke Ryoken’s lips and necks before hungrily returning to the whole goal of this morning’s sex. His hands clamoured along Prince Spectre’s sides as he straddled him.

   Soon, Prince Spectre’s mouth was latched greedily unto Duke Ryoken’s breast. Duke Ryoken mewled beneath him as that ardour, briefly halted, returned at full speed and then some as Prince Spectre had mastered the most sensuous way of eliciting milk from his beloved. Beneath him, Duke Ryoken bucked his hips and intertwined their legs. His cock grazing upwards and along the silken petals of Prince Spectre’s genitals.

   It was with this wriggling and writhing that both came to the same conclusion. That was, of course, that they would both find themselves over the edge very soon. They had been there for a while; since Prince Spectre had removed his anthers from up Duke Ryoken’s ass, even possibly from before that. They had kept delaying it as they were equitable in their distributions, even when the pleasure was decidedly someone else’s like today. It was because they found that if they weren’t so egalitarian, they began to bicker and that was just annoying as neither had the most impressive stamina and it tended to ruin any post-coital bliss that they had before such bickering, too.

   Duke Ryoken bucked back against Prince Spectre as he continued to suck and pinch. His cock was directed upwards, slowly and clumsily, into Prince Spectre’s genitals. As usual, they were unfurled long and wide and slick with nectar which made for easy, if sticky, entrance. He enjoyed sliding himself deep within Prince Spectre’s stigma and penetrating him, but it was difficult managing that when he was constantly under such pressure atop his chest.

   Prince Spectre admired the tenacity, of it though. He liked being penetrated, after all. Humans were so animalistic, he could enjoy the primality of it. He moaned as he felt Duke Ryoken inside of him. He was doing so well and there was a foreign gentleness to him; perhaps, that was distraction though. He hoped it was distraction. Regardless, his cock pressed deep within the velvety petals of his genitals and reached his base as he penetrated the pistil, even skirting the ovary.

   Prince Spectre continued to drink of Duke Ryoken’s milk. Grinding back against him as he suckled hard. He sighed as he swallowed greedily, pinching around the nipple and try to get the most he could. Duke Ryoken’s milk was sweet but not necessarily creamy. He wasn’t sure how to describe it, but it was something of an elixir. It did not get him drunk but it certainly incited fervent lust from deep within him. Every time he swallowed, it hit his whole body like ichor and he adored it.

   With Duke Ryoken’s hard cock up his stigma, it was hard not to enjoy everything. His body burned with lust and his breaths shuddered inside of him. His skin, soft but taut like the stalk of a lily, bristled and turned mottled. Deepening greens stretching randomly around his body as he very much enjoyed this episode of sex.

   Duke Ryoken groaned. “I-I’m gonna…”

   Prince Spectre briefly lifted his lips from his nipple, still leaking with milk, and pressed a hard and fast kiss onto his lips. Duke Ryoken attempted to keep Prince Spectre there but he was rebellious; addicted to that which flowed from the nubs on his breast.

   Duke Ryoken panted and a jet of hot cum was released from his urethral slit. The denial of a kiss had tipped him off and Prince Spectre latched onto his nipple. His body rippled back against Duke Ryoken’s and there was a gush of nectar. It had been slowly dripping over the both of them, pooling stickily and sweetly atop the table but now, it flowed as though a faucet had been turned.

   The cum and nectar was a tasty but heady smell in their private quarters. It was free to waft, after all their walls were mere canvas sheets. They panted and Duke Ryoken’s nipples dried despite Prince Spectre’s better attempts to force more out. Duke ryokan had to swat Prince Spectre away.

   “You’ve done it.” he said, sour. “You managed to suck my dry.”

   He grimaced and Prince Spectre eyed Duke Ryoken’s nipples. One was significantly pinker than the other and it was no doubt because of his interference. Prince Ryoken rubbed them and he complained of soreness. Something Prince Spectre could only roll his eyes at as he would imagine further stimulating them would worsen that.

   Within him, he could feel Duke Ryoken’s penis turn flaccid so, Duke Ryoken wriggled out from beneath him. He moved the nectar and cum around and panted. He was sweaty; his skin practically gleamed in the noon light streaming through the dappled foliage far ahead of them.

   They hooked their legs over the edge of the table. Let them dangle. They leaned against one another and Prince Spectre’s hand hovered atop his stomach. It gurgled in disagreement to the satisfaction he felt but there was something else to it. Something he couldn’t quite discern yet. Still, he mostly indulged in the satisfaction. He was positively blithe with the post-coital glow he had whereas Prince Ryoken was thoroughly exhausted.

   “I hope you enjoyed yourself.” Duke Ryoken grumbled.

   “I did.” Prince Spectre replied in a manner of speaking which was very uppity.

   A curt smile graced Duke Ryoken’s face. He was glad. It may not have been ideal, but it had certainly been pleasurable and thorough. A sympathetic expression soon replaced the look on Prince Spectre’s face.

   “How are you feeling?” he asked.

   “Tired.” Duke Ryoken yawned. “My nips hurt a lot and I’m still vaguely horny. You?”

   Prince spectre was strangely taken aback by the question. “I’m fine.”

   “You don’t want to try for round two?”

   “Not… yet.” he replied, if ever, he thought.

   “Huh.” Duke Ryoken murmured.

   “But it was fun doing it on the table, we should do that more often.” Prince Spectre replied, making conversation more so than anything else.

   “Duly noted; so long as you clean it.” he said, and he eyed the mess they were sitting in.

   “That’s no problem. If you like, you can have a nap and I can sanitise the table. I would pity the maid if she had to…”

   Duke Ryoken shrugged. “Alright.” Then he groaned and slipped his arm behind Prince Spectre and embraced him, snuggling up close. “But I’d rather you in bed with me. Do it later maybe?”

   Prince Spectre huffed. “But if we do it later, it’ll turn filthy.”

   “Please?” Duke Ryoken mumbled in a soft, uncharacteristically sweet voice and he flirtatiously pressed a kiss unto Prince Spectre’s mouth.

   Prince Spectre kissed back and let himself be taken by such a slovenly seduction. He was pulled down from the table and tumbled into bed for some post-coital cuddling, although that was pretty swift. Duke Ryoken for, all intents and purposes, passed out within the first five minutes of his and Prince Spectre’s head hitting their pillows.

   A few hours later, they rose for dinner and decided to have it at the Knights’ place. To the utter displeasure of Dame Baira, of course. Especially as Sir Genome was thrilled to know his potion had worked – on Duke Ryoken anyway. It appeared that it had had no effect on Prince Spectre.

   However, in the days to come, they did notice some tangential changes. Prince Spectre’s mating period seemed to have ended abruptly. Duke Ryoken had been expecting another month, possibly two, of Prince Spectre’s incessant pestering for sex but instead, he had dropped the notion cold turkey.

   Then, at the end of this month, things again turned for the strange. There came a cooler than usual day and it had left Prince Spectre utterly wrecked. Which was uncharacteristic of him. He was hardy and hale, but he woke up that morning completely consumed with some sort of misery brought on by a mystery illness. One that he claimed was completely raking something inside of him; something that was decidedly not his stomach. Or his appendix, whatever that was. Whatever it was, it was not something dryads possessed despite the humans’ feeble attempts to convince him otherwise.

   So, eventually, when Prince Spectre resigned to his fate and sent himself to the royal physician to get the dryadic opinion. The dryadic opinion being something which completely shattered him and would shatter him again when he had to deliver the prognosis to his husband.

   Prince Spectre, after returning from the privacy of his physician’s shelter, sat Duke Ryoken down at the table. Of which, he eyed with much aminosity.

   “So, what did Sunvine Maiden have to say?” Duke Ryoken replied.

   “She ran some tests and I responded to none of them… so, she tried something else as she had ruled out all other possibilities. It’s not gall, internal rot or wilting or anything. Nothing common. Well, it is something common, but I have no idea how such a thing happened.” Prince Spectre said.

   “shit, I finally gave you an STI or something, huh?” Duke Ryoken asked with a voice of disappointment which seemed to reflect only on himself.

   “Not… exactly.” Prince Spectre replied. “I have a parasite of some sort, I suppose you would say.”

   “Like tapeworm?” Duke Ryoken guessed.

   “No, that’s not entirely apt. And perhaps I shouldn’t have phrased it like that. I’ve vaguely offended now but it’s my fault.” Prince Spectre said.

   “Just out with it already, hon.” Duke Ryoken groaned.

   “I’m gestating your progeny, darling.” Prince Spectre scathingly replied.

   “When…? How?!” Duke Ryoken exclaimed. “The last time we had sex was the milk thing and the night before, you, well… did the seed thing so you should have been barren.”

   “Yes, that’s what I thought too. It’s unconfirmed – Sunvine Maiden would like to run some tests – but it is possible that brew Sir Genome made us may have increased my fertility and caused a seed to produce prematurely and when you ejaculated inside of me, it absorbed the genetic material and since I never thought to purge myself afterwards, the seed was given time to, well, come to fruition.” Prince Spectre explained.

   “Fabulous, so we’re going to be parents?” Duke Ryoken asked.

   “Are you ready for such a thing? I know it’s never been on your agenda, but it’s been on mine. I respect if you’re not ready, but I would like to take this opportunity to voice the fact that I, personally, wouldn’t mind taking on a parental role in the future. Once your ready, of course.” Prince Spectre replied.

   Duke Ryoken paused, chewed on his reply. “If your ready, I’m ready. I’d be lying if I said I hadn’t thought about it – or noticed. I’m not completely daft to that side of you.”

   A grin lit up on Prince Spectre’s face. He threw his arms around Duke Ryoken’s neck and pulled him in for a hug. He embraced back.

   “Congratulations to us, huh?” he mused.

   “Yes. Congrtatulations to us.” Prince Spectre replied as he slowly drew back.

   Duke Ryoken scratched the back of his head. “This is really exciting.”

   “Mm, it is.” Prince Spectre agreed.

   “So, like, is it too early to start thinking up names? And what about a nursery? Is this going to be like human pregnancy or like dryad pregnancy – and oh gods, what’s the baby going to even look like? I hope it has your nose, that’d be nice.”

   Prince Spectre harrumphed. “I was warned it might be a difficult gestation period. As the seedling might have foetal traits which will likely cause abnormalities but dryad-human hybrids, whilst having a difficult pregnancy, are hardy once they reach toddlerhood, so it’ll be a day-by-day sort of slog until we reach the end of gestation, really. Like, most seedlings you can just place in a nursery pot until it blooms but ours is obviously not so lucky.”

   “I see. Very well then. Let’s do our best as parents.” Duke Ryoken replied.

   “It’s all we can do.” Prince Spectre mused.

   “So, um, but going back to the cutesy domestic things… do you want a girl or a boy? I’d much rather raise a son. And how will be able to determine the sex of our child? I think Pistol would be a good name for a boy, too.”

   Prince Spectre stared at Duke Ryoken. He was utterly bewildered by the question. “We’ll know its reproductive sex once it reaches puberty. It should have decided its own gender well before then though.”

   “Do… dryads not, uh… Do dryads not have the same customs as humans on that one?” Duke Ryoken asked, his question clacking on his teeth.

   “Are you telling me that you just assign your progeny genders based on if they have a penis or vagina at birth?” Prince Spectre exclaimed. “Ryoken, I love you but that’s positively barbaric!”

   “Well, when you put it like that, it sounds pretty bad.” Duke Ryoken replied, going red.

   “Also, going back to that name you suggested. Pistil? Really? Is it also custom amongst humans to name their children after such intimate parts of their body?” Prince Spectre asked, voice rising to a fever pitch.

   Duke Ryoken paused and remembered the name Richard and its diminutives. “Er, yes, actually.”

   “Humans are disgusting.” Prince Spectre exclaimed. “Barbaric no longer begins to cover you lot.”

   “Also, I meant “Pis-TOL”, not “Pis-TIL” and you know it.” Duke Ryoken cut in.

   “We can continue this naming aspect later. We have such a long time after all.” Prince Spectre huffed. “I mean, we have far more pressing issues.”

   Duke Ryoken’s eyes widened and he felt a knot of fear and dread begin to curl in on itself in the pit of his stomach. He was right. Prince Spectre was right. After all, telling him was half the battle. And of the battles, it was probably the easiest. He swallowed dryly.

   He imagined having to tell his knights. He thinks they will be supportive, but they will absolutely take the chance to riff on him for his inappropriate sexual conduct. He hoped that they would make good uncles and an aunt but still. He thought of how he had been looked after by them as a child. That was not something exactly heart-warming but there was a more terrifying prospect. The in-laws would have to be told.

   And Duke could not exactly imagine having to tell Spectre’s beloved Tree Mother, the Queen, that very soon she would have grandchildren. That left Duke Ryoken feeling quite petrified.

   Parenthood was going to be very, very scary, he thinks. But, as he reaches for his husband’s hand, he thinks they can deal.

**Author's Note:**

> Their eldest ends up being a girl whom Ryoken names Beretta. She takes after him more personality wise, and then some as she is quite some more sadistic and callous, and even has the violet streaks in her hair, but gets most her appearance from Spectre with her dyrad genes being stronger. They also go onto have a son, whom is named Loci by Spectre and he's essentially an expy of Milne from Yuri Kuma Arashi.


End file.
